Seeing the Light
by yahira
Summary: The Serena/Blair fight of Season 2, with a twist: what if Blair's revenge was successful?
1. Prologue

Note: Because I am very much looking forward to a major Serena/Blair fight in season 6 - not to be cruel, just because it would make for some great drama (and if spoilers, which I avoid, say that's not going to happen, don't tell me) - I went back to an earlier fight that I think never got enough play. (Just to be clear at the outset, I'm totally on Blair's side.) So Season 2 has happened as in canon, and this is New Haven Can Wait, beginning at the gathering at the dean's house. Only this time, Blair's plotting does not blow up in her face, as it usually does.

* * *

_Trying to come up with an answer for the dean's parlor game?_

_You manipulated your way in here?_

_I get what I want Serena. Just like I'm going to win tonight. What's your answer? Oh, no, let me guess... Lauren Conrad._

_Try George Sand._

_Wait that's..._

_Your answer? Not anymore. If you're going to cheat your way in, then why should I play fair? Oh, and I heard that the dean asks his question in alphabetical order. So since V comes before W, looks like the answer's all mine._

Serena turned and walked across the room to greet the dean, who smiled broadly to see her and shook her hand. Blair could see the fawning start, as it always did, and looked back down toward the dish of answers. George Sand. Her perfect answer, gone, stolen, the same way her position, her minions, her mother's approval were stolen. And now apparently Chuck, because where else could this latest betrayal have come from? All because Serena was so frikkin' shiny that she blinded the entire world.

Well, if she wasn't going to let Blair hold her back anymore, then there's no reason for Blair to hold back either. She reached into the bowl, picked up Serena's entry and a pen, and then paused.

No, she decided. Screw the easy embarrassment - Serena would just coast through the way she managed to do at the Ivy Week Mixer, the way she always did, just because she was Serena. If she really wanted to win this time, Blair thought, she'd have to put it all on the line.

So she took a breath, wrote a single name, then tossed both her and Serena's entries in the bowl. One of them was going to lose spectacularly tonight. This time, she sent a silent plea, let it not be me.

* * *

I don't know how far this will go - the other characters will definitely come into it - but I'm going for a sliding doors motif. As in, this one thing changed, how does it affect all the other stuff that happened?


	2. A Tangled Web

Didn't say this in Chapter 1, but if you recognize the dialogue, it's because I didn't write it, the GG writers did. I am sadly not one of them, nor one of the producers, not CvZ, nor anyone else with any kind of ownership stake. I also forgot to ask for reviews, but that doesn't mean I don't want them!

* * *

Blair spent the next half-hour mingling, avoiding Serena completely, and hoped she'd impressed upon various professors her responsibility and grace. But now it was time to begin phase two. She went to the side of the room Serena had been working, and of course the giraffe came over to rub it in.

"You look pretty calm for someone who longer has the perfect answer to the dean's question."

Blair imagined she was talking to someone from Queens to get the right look of disdain on her face. "You really don't know me if you think I came here without a Plan B. And C. Professor Lewis has been working on a book on Moliere for the past two years, Professor Jamison over there is teaching a new course on women in classic myths and current superhero movies, and the head of the sociology department is a devoted Fry & Laurie fan."

"As anal-retentively researched as that was," Serena replied, rolling her eyes, "none of your second or third choices are going to be nearly as good as your first - or should I say, my first choice."

She moved forward, forcing Blair to step to the side as she turned to see the head of the drama department offering his hand to the blonde. She heard her erstwhile friend begin speaking of how impressed she had been during the campus tour and of her (day-old) interest in production and directing as though she'd been planning a film career all her life. Blair was halfway tempted to interrupt with a comment on the adult film industry being glad to have Serena, but that would hardly advance her cause.

She shook off her momentary lapse in concentration as a Constitutional scholar her dad spoke of very highly approached. A few moments of conversation, where she managed to work in not only her father's pro bono work with the ACLU but her own judicial experience - not mentioning it was as a judge of freshman fashion faux pas - and the dean announced the beginning of Probiteur.

It was time to strike, she thought, moving back to Serena's side, and for once in her life, everything seemed to be going her way. She'd always known Yale was the right place for her.

"Oh, how sweet," Serena whispered as the second person to speak chose Moliere as who he'd most like to have dinner with. "Hope you put down your choice C after all. Wouldn't want to be repetitive."

"Normally, no," Blair murmured back. "But say the first person to use my choice didn't actually know anything about her. It could be an opportunity to make that first person look like an empty-headed it girl who coasts by on her looks. Speaking of, did you have time to learn anything about George Sand aside from what's on Wikipedia?"

She saw Serena's usual ease vanish. "I learned enough."

Time to twist the knife a little, along with the truth, and hope Serena's research really hadn't been that deep - after all, the quiz answers were only expected to be a minute or two long, so Serena hadn't needed the kind of extensive knowledge Blair had put together. "So you're planning to discuss Flaubert's criticism of her? Or Baudelaire's admiration? Maybe you'll just talk about her fashion sense. I'm sure that's all the dean really expects of you anyway."

Serena smiled around her, making sure those faculty members near them didn't think anything of their quiet conversation, then grabbed Blair's arm and brought them both back a few steps into the other room.

"The dean expects enough of me to want me here, unlike you."

Those nails rather hurt. She shook Serena off. "Maybe I did have to work for my invitation, but at least I'll succeed on my own merits and not because I got a purse named after me and my picture on Page Six."

"God, why do you have to be such a bitch all the time?"

"I'd rather be a bitch than an airhead. Of course, some of us can be successful at both."

"And some of us can't be successful at anything, no matter how underhanded we are in pursuit of it."

"As Sand said, 'There's only one success in life, to be loved and to love.' And I am going to take that success and shove it down your throat in about 5 more minutes, because I love this school and I will make them love me. And you'll be the girl who commented on cross-dressing."

"We'll see about that. Thanks for the quote though, I'm sure it will liven up my speech." Serena flounced back to the spot on the edge of the room they'd vacated, Blair following to hear a Ms. Pauley talk about...Emma Frost? Who the hell was that? Never mind. There was one more tiny push that her best friend not-so-forever needed to go over the cliff. Blair paused, giving it one last consideration, knowing that she'd already done some damage and questioning whether she really could go all the way with it.

But a sneer from Serena decided it for her. This was _her_ future and _her_ dream, and the one thing Serena couldn't take no matter what Blair had to do to keep it. S' destruction was her own doing. And as the dean was calling on a badly-dressed girl, a somebody-or-other named Steinberg, whom Blair had found out would be the last to speak before Serena, it was time.

Again, a sotto voice comment. "The quote is yours to use as you see fit. Of course, it will be pretty hard to work in, seeing as how your person never said anything of the sort."

A widening of blue eyes and Blair knew she was listening, even if that was the only reaction. "Toying with you has been fun, but it's time to confess. You were right. I do think it's better to have an original answer. And I certainly couldn't leave you with my best one, now could I?"

With everyone else's attention across the room where Ms. Steinberg stood next to the dean, Blair and Serena stared at each other, Blair maintaining a small but triumphant smile even though the next few minutes could still blow up in her face.

But Serena had never been confident in her intelligence. She wasn't dumb, but even as a child it was all about how adorable she was and what a sunny disposition she had, and once she hit puberty, earlier than all the other girls except Georgina, the world at large was barely aware there was a mind behind that face and body. It was her weak spot, and Blair knew how to exploit it. And from the look of horror on the Jolly Blonde Giant's face, she was all too ready to believe Blair's next words. "You probably should have waited to tell me your plan until we were away from the table. At least then changing your answer might have been a tiny bit difficult. But you have always been ridiculously easy."

"Blair, what did you do?"

"Hmm? Oh, you mean in, I'd say, sixty seconds from now, when the dean calls your name, who is it that you're going to have to defend as the person you'd most like to have dinner with?"

"Blair..."

"Well, let's see. It could have been Lauren Conrad, actually, that was a pretty good idea. Or I could have picked someone you don't know at all - so, practically anyone out of history or literature."

"Blair, stop it, this isn't funny."

And at that, Blair dropped her voice even lower to hiss at her. "No, it really isn't. But you wanted to come here, a school you've never given a second thought to, just to take it from me. So it may not be funny, but it's fair." She could hear the end of a speech on Artemis approaching, and was certain it was just Serena and herself left, which meant it was time. "So who did I pick Serena? What answer would hurt you the most? The one that just makes you look vapid, or the one that makes you look completely moronic? Or maybe I used the most hurtful possibility I could think of to treat you the way you've treated me."

And as the dean thanked the student ending her speech, Blair thrust the knife home with a sunny smile.

"So how would you like to have dinner with Pete Fairman, Serena? Does that sound funny?"

* * *

Much like Serena, I don't know anything about George Sand. So please pretend Blair's comments include information that can't be found on Wikipedia. And if you do know something about Sand (or you go read the Wikipedia page) then I apologize that the next chapter has been spoiled for you. Also, a chapter-title inspiring quote that I like for Blair, with apologies to Walter Scott for the first two lines, and I don't know who for the last two:

Oh what a tangled web we weave  
When first we practice to deceive  
But when we've practiced quite a while  
How vastly we improve our style


	3. A Fool's House

Well, no one much seems to care about this fic, but at least there's no pressure to update! If you are reading, please let me know why you're not that enthused or any other criticism. Is it just cause it's set back in season 2? Or just that it's a Blair & Serena and not about any couples in particular? Cause there will probably be some Chair soon.

As always, don't own, blah blah blah.

* * *

Serena had lost her usual golden glow as Dean Baraby started to speak. In fact, she looked downright ghostly.

"Next, we have Serena van der Woodson, who would like to dine with..."

"No!"

No one gasped, exactly, but a ripple of attention ran around the room. Blair herself almost jumped. She was expecting Serena to be flustered, to screw up her speech, but not this. Even she didn't know what would come next.

"I'm sorry, Dean Baraby, I just wanted to change my answer."

"Oh, well, that's a little irregular, but why not?" Blair suppressed an eye-roll. Of course why not? Anything for you, Ms. van der Woodsen. Would you like your grapes peeled? Pillow fluffed? How can we mere mortals make your life better?

Ugh.

But what was Serena up to? She couldn't say George Sand now, not after Blair had pointed out how whatever answer she'd prepared would be so much poorer than Blair's for the same person, and not after several people had seen them speaking and Serena might look like she was stealing someone else's idea. So she had to pick someone else.

Apparently, that had occurred to Serena as well, because she was floundering. "It's just that, on reflection, my first answer was a bit silly. He was more of a personal choice, you see. Not someone I'd really want."

"She."

Oh. My. God. Nothing in Blair's life had ever been as good as this moment.

"I'm sorry?"

She might actually die, it was so good.

"You said _he _was a personal choice, Ms. van der Woodson. And I'm sorry to hear you wouldn't want to dine with her - George Sand always has been rather a favorite of mine. To each his or her own, I suppose." The dean's smile looked a bit strained, as his dream applicant was shown to not only dislike his favorite author, but to be an absolute idiot too.

This was almost better than sex. She could feel the endorphin rush right down to her toes.

"My answer was George Sand?" Serena's look of horror was directed at Blair, who tried to look as shocked as everyone else. As the audience started to murmur a bit, Serena managed to straighten herself out, but the effort it took was visible. "I mean, of course, I apologize. I'd love to have dinner with George Sand." She shook it off and went to what had obviously been her prepared answer.

"George Sand was an influential author in 1800s France. She was a great supporter of the working class and women's rights, and she was admired greatly by other luminaries, but attracted some criticism, most notably from Flaubert. But why I'd choose her to dine with would be because of the freedom she aspired to, casting off traditional gender roles and regularly dressing as a man and smoking in public, and because of her philosophy that "there is only one success in life, to be loved and to love," which I think should be an inspiration to everyone."

"Yes, well that was a fine speech. Very, ah, spontaneous."

"Thank you Dean. Much like Baudelaire, I'm a great admirer."

"Yes, I see quite clearly how much you care about Sand, Ms. van der Woodsen." The dean was being awfully polite, but Blair could see how tightly his jaw was clenched from across the room. She was no longer looking at Serena, as she didn't think she could maintain an innocent facade, but she knew the blonde was fuming, and she didn't even know yet exactly how bad Blair had made her look. Baudelaire, an admirer? Flaubert, a critic? And that quote! Wrong, wrong, and wrong twice more. Serena really should have stuck with what she'd prepared, but no. Not the girl who could do no wrong. It was the first time in twelve years of classes together that Blair had ever known her to not have at least a satisfactory answer, or a way to deflect the question.

But now it was Blair's turn. And she may have done some damage to Serena, but she had in no way made herself the standout applicant of this group yet. This was the moment she would either soar or plummet, _her_ chance to shine.

And if she wanted to shine, there was no better way than to emulate the sparkliest person alive, right?

"Lastly, we have Blair Waldorf. Ms. Waldorf, the person, real or fictional, living or dead, with whom you would most like to have dinner is...

Pete Fairman."

* * *

Yes, the chapter title is an awful joke. I laugh at puns. And if you don't care to check out the wikipedia page, Flaubert was the admirer, Baudelaire the critic, and the real quote is "there is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved."


	4. The End

Thank you so much to those who've reviewed/favorited.

* * *

"I do not know this person. Who is Pete Fairman?"

She couldn't spare a look for Serena now, though she idly wondered if she thought Blair had made some kind of ridiculous error in putting down the names. But there had been no mistake.

"Pete Fairman was the man who saved my life," Blair began, taking a deep breath. It was an true attempt to brace herself for this speech, but her audience should assume she was nervous to reveal something deeply personal, not preparing to risk her life plans on the major lies she was about to tell. "I'm afraid I owe you an apology, Dean. You asked during my interview for me to share something that wasn't in my file, and I should have shared then what I am now. And that is that I am 16 months clean."

She had the complete attention of the room now, and she was going to keep it for the rest of the night and weekend if this went well.

"You see, my mother is a designer - Eleanor Waldorf - and it's easy to be seduced by that world, as I unfortunately was. I managed to keep my academic life on track, fortunately, but in private, I was spending time with models and artists and those that live and support the supposedly glamorous life, a life that includes easy access to drugs."

She blinked rapidly, hopefully appearing to hold back tears.

"And it was great fun, for a while. It's so easy to garner attention for the wrong reasons. You get your picture on Page Six and all of New York knows your name, but you can't even see how shallow it is. How notoriety isn't a substitute for fulfillment; how unrewarding it is having your fashion sense copied when you could be inspiring minds instead of accessories." Many in the audience were nodding now, the ones she'd been most careful to impress earlier, the ones she knew were leaders in the tenured faction who didn't agree with the dean's move to bring in students based solely on the press releases that could be crafted from their acceptance.

"Pete was the one who opened my eyes, not to the emptiness of that world, but to the dangers we all know of that I'd been willfully ignoring." She swallowed and again visibly steeled herself. "Because I was there when he died. I didn't know him, had only met him a few minutes before. We were with mutual friends, and he did a line of coke and had a seizure. I tried to help, called an ambulance while others ran, but it was over too quickly. He was gone, and the rest of us were just lucky.

"And that was it for me. I stopped partying, I got help, I stayed away from temptations, I reapplied myself to schoolwork and I stayed out of the limelight. I imagine saving me from a fate similar to his own would be small comfort to Pete, but if I could meet him again for just a moment, much less a whole dinner, I would thank him nonetheless."

For a moment more, the room kept the absolute silence everyone had fallen into when she'd said Pete died, then the dean spoke. "Thank you, Miss Waldorf. That was truly inspiring, and you've all given the faculty present tonight a sense of what you'd bring to our institution." He included the rest of the prospective students in his summation. "I thank you all for your attendance and participation, and hope to see some of you tomorrow before you return to your homes."

That signaled an obvious end to the evening, and as some applicants moved toward the door, she was practically swarmed with professors who all seemed to want to say how brave she was, how moving her speech was, and best of all, how much they agreed that the life of the mind was so rewarding and that gossip rags and the celebutantes they followed had no place in a place of tradition and knowledge such as Yale.

She had half seen Serena turn to her after the dean's goodbye, but there had been no time to speak before her first admirer approached, and by the time she was done thanking people for their kind words of support and agreeing wholeheartedly with their estimation of it girls and their ilk, she was actually the last student left. Even the dean, whose plan it had been to up Yale's Q rating by issuing press releases when various bright stars came to visit or attend Yale, had not seemed upset by her speech giving support to those who opposed his ideas. He escorted her out personally and asked her to stop by his office in the morning, saying he'd love to speak with her again, as he understood how nervous she must have at their first meeting, taking full blame for the kiss incident (not mentioned directly, of course) after he'd put her on the spot regarding a past she must often want to leave behind.

And that was it. Every possibility of the many things that could have gone wrong with this scheme that had occurred to her after running into Serena at the beginning of the party faded away, and only this perfect outcome was left. She had won. She walked around a bit more before returning to her assigned dorm for the weekend - she thinks she even saw Dan Humphrey tied to a statue, but he's hardly worth a second thought - and then fell into bed, dreaming of having her bedroom repainted Bulldog Blue.

The next morning, her second interview completed easily, she exited the administration building to find Serena on her way up the stairs. She looked miserable, and Blair's heart gave an involuntary tug, but Serena spoke first and gave her time to remind herself why she had behaved as she did.

"Did you have to make me look stupid, Blair? You could have just used one of your many other answers to impress the professors, why did you have to fake me out and steal my life?"

"Are you sure you want to accuse me of stealing answers here?"

"Maybe I shouldn't have used Sand, but that was just an author the dean likes, not someone you actually cared about. Pete was a real influence in my life, a man I watched die, and you used him in some stupid game. That's completely over the line."

"Please, Serena," she said sarcastically. "Turnabout is fair play. You gave me a big speech on how you were going to be your true self no matter what I or anyone else thought, and a day later you've decided to be me instead, taking my answer, taking away my dream. Well, if you want to prove you can be me, I thought it fair to prove I can be you."

"Maybe I shouldn't have said all that, but..."

"But you did. And you can't unsay it, or apologize and have it forgotten. And you know what? Maybe you were right that my insecurities aren't your fault, but don't act like the world at your feet is somehow what you deserve. You're just pretty. So go. Be pretty. Shine as bright as you want. You don't have to hold yourself back for me, just don't think I'll be there to hold back your hair next time you need it. Because you will fall, S. You always do."

"No. I've changed. And I'm sick of you and everyone else looking at me like I'm teetering on the edge of some cliff of self-destruction."

"And I'm sick of looking like Darth Vader next to Sunshine Barbie, so feel free to cross me off that list. I won't be looking at you, or after you, anymore."

"So that's it? A decade of friendship is just gone?"

"It's been a long ten years. Frankly, I'm tired."

The girls stopped speaking and stared at each other until a backpack-burdened student bumped into Blair on his way down the stairs. She didn't even make a bitchy comment regarding his behavior, just sent a last look at Serena and continued on her path to her car. Serena turned to watch her go, but only for a moment, before she too walked away.

* * *

Not actually the end, that's just the chapter title. So...review?


End file.
